


Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Lupus

by Jotun_Half_Breed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Black Hermione Granger, Comments are appreciated, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Healer Sirius Black, Hogwarts Third Year, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mentor Remus Lupin, Mentor Severus Snape, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Sirius Black, Protective Remus Lupin, Protective Severus Snape, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley Bashing, Ron Weasley Being an Asshole, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Sirius Black Gets a Trial, Sirius Black is a Good Person, Teacher Remus Lupin, To Be Continued, Werewolf Discrimination, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Packs, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolf Transformations, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jotun_Half_Breed/pseuds/Jotun_Half_Breed
Summary: “NO!” Granger screamed. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he’s a werewolf! Him and Malfoy! That’s why they’ve been missing classes and sneaking around the place together! ”
Relationships: Remus Lupin & Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin & Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 75
Kudos: 449
Collections: Werewolves and Lycanthropy, Wolfstar





	Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Lupus

**Author's Note:**

> Hey readers!
> 
> This is a chapter of a story I have planned in which Draco was bitten by a werewolf aged eight and is now in his third year at Hogwarts. Remus has turned up and became his mentor/father-figure and is helping him deal with his lycanthropy.
> 
> I appreciate constructive criticism if you have any. Don't be afraid to tell me if I made a mistake. I won't get mad. Promise!
> 
> If you wish for me to write the rest of this story, please comment at the end. Thanks, and enjoy!

Draco ducked his head under one of the low-hanging roots that hung from the roof of the secret passage beneath the Whomping Willow. The path was well-trodden, footprints keeping the dirt packed together beneath his feet. He knew better than to wait for Remus at the end of the tunnel. He always arrived later than him, always had some piece of paperwork or marking to complete before leaving the warmth and safety of the castle and making the long journey to the Shrieking Shack. Draco’s head was thumping, his bones and muscles feeling as though they were on fire, but this was a common reaction that he was well accustomed to. He moved past boarded-up windows and smashed furniture, halting only for a moment to pick up a sharp piece of shattered wood and standing on tiptoes to stash it safely on top of a dresser. Despite the darkness obscuring the furthest corners of the room like the cloak of a dementor, Draco could see quite clearly, though it did make his eyes ache and his head pound painfully. 

He slowly climbed the stairs, limping towards his claimed room on the left-hand side, massaging his temple with his free hand, holding his bag in the other. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice that he was not alone. He had his hand on the door before he perceived the voices inside.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!”

He froze. That voice was undeniably Weasley’s. He could smell him too, now that he was concentrating, he could smell all of them. Potter was there, and Granger, and her nuisance of a cat. But there was someone else in there too—someone that smelled of sweat, blood and dirt; someone that smelled of danger. Draco stepped back, his Slytherin instincts telling him to run for a teacher. 

“Lie down,” the man said quietly to Weasley. “You’ll damage that leg even…”

Draco let out a soft hiss of disgust. He had stepped back onto one of the floorboards, which had creaked, the sound echoing around the otherwise silent house. He was usually so much more careful, so much more cunning, so much more Slytherin. He jerked out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by the door as it was swung open and he was grabbed by the collar and pressed unceremoniously against the wall. His eyes met those of a face he had seen numerous times on Ministry ‘wanted’ posters. Sirius Black’s grip on him was tight, even painful, and he felt a wand being pressed sharply against his collarbone. 

“And who might you be?” Black growled, eyeing him dangerously.

Draco knew now was an appropriate time to tell the truth. He bared his teeth, summoning all his Slytherin courage. “Draco,” he hissed. “Draco Malfoy”

“Lucius’ brat?” Black sneered. “And what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Remus,” he groaned. “Tonight’s the full, as you very well know.”

Black’s eyes widened slightly, and he pursed his lips together, gazing at Draco with something close to curiosity. 

Draco decided to throw all caution to the winds and use some of the information he had picked up from Remus’ stories to his advantage.

“Please let me go, Padfoot,” he murmured. “You’re hurting me.”

Black released him so fast; it was as though he had been burnt. He eyed him for a second, then jerked his head towards the open doorway, inside which the Golden Trio were standing, wandless. 

“In,” he growled. 

Draco obeyed, allowing Black to grasp his forearm and lead him into the room, ignoring the surprised looks of his classmates. He felt the fugitive pull his wand from his pocket and transfer it into his own, but he didn’t try to stop him. The tool was useless to him now. He slowly dragged his hand out of the other man’s grip. 

“May I sit?” He whispered, jerking his head towards the bed. “As you have probably guessed, I don’t have the energy to stand.”

Black let him go and nodded, not paying him any attention as he limped to the end of the bed, sinking into the misshapen mattress. Weasley had fallen onto it as well, clutching his leg, which was bleeding and broken. He eyed it cautiously but made no comment. 

“What are you doing here?” Granger hissed in Draco’s direction. 

He had pressed his eyes into the heels of his hands, trying to halt the continuous pounding, but he answered her clearly. “You’re a smart witch, Granger,” he groaned. “Take a guess.”

Granger’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

Weasley looked between them, confused. “What in Merlin’s beard is that supposed to mean?”

“Who cares?” Potter snarled. “We have a murderer to deal with, or have you forgotten?”

Black snarled. “I’ve waited too long for this, and I certainly won’t let you stop me, Harry.”

“We won’t let you!” Granger’s voice was higher than usual, probably out of fear, but she stepped in front of Potter bravely. “I’ll die before I let you hurt Harry!”

Draco’s eyes flickered between them, but he didn’t have the energy to rise and intervene. Remus would be here soon. They just needed time. Granger could give them time. No one would get hurt.

“There’ll only be one murder tonight,” said Black, and his grin widened.

“Why’s that?” Potter spat, causing Draco to groan slightly as his headache flared. “Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get to Pettigrew. What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?”

“Harry!” Granger whispered, speaking the words Draco himself very much wanted to scream at the boy. “Be quiet!”

“HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Potter roared -causing Draco to cry out and cover his sensitive ears- and with a considerable effort, he broke free and lunged forwards.

Draco was on his feet before he could stop himself, wrapping his arms around Potter’s waist and pulling him back. Did the idiot not know that Black was a killer? Did he have no self-preservation? Potter struggled, and his elbow came crashing right into Draco’s jaw. The blonde twisted away from him, clutching the bruise that was already forming where the other boy had hit him. It had been a sluggish hit, but as usual, Draco’s bones were weakened by the upcoming full moon. He whimpered. Being a werewolf sucked. 

Potter didn’t even turn to see if he was ok. He jumped on Black, his hands tightening around the man’s neck, even as Black reached up to push him away. Weasley’s ragged breathing came from near the bed, and Granger was entirely silent.

And then came a new sound —

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor; someone was moving downstairs. Remus was coming! 

“WE’RE UP HERE!” Granger screamed suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!” 

Draco pushed himself up, wincing, dragging his pained body over and onto the bed, gripping the corner to keep himself upright, listening as footsteps thundered up the stairs. The door burst open in a shower of red sparks, and Potter jumped back, wheeling around as Remus came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, but hiding his pain well. His wand was raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Weasley, lying on the bed, over Granger, cowering next to the door, over Potter, standing over Black, shaking, then over Black himself, curled up on the ground, and finally onto Draco, weak, trembling with pain, the bruise standing out distinctly against his pale skin, eyes meeting his pleadingly. A silent summoning spell gathered all four of the teenagers’ wands from Black and Remus stowed them in his cloak. 

Black made to stand up, but Remus turned his glare on the fugitive and he stilled. “Stay where you are, Sirius,” he warned.

Ignoring the Gryffindors, Remus crouched down in front of Draco, gently raising his chin to examine the bruise on his jaw. The young Slytherin sighed and allowed his mentor to examine the discolouration. “It wasn’t him, Remus,” he mumbled. “Potter elbowed me by accident. There’s no point in healing it until morning.”

Remus gave a small nod, eyeing him carefully, and Draco hesitated before tilting his head in the direction of his bag, stowed carefully at his feet. 

“Your potion,” he murmured. “You should take it now. Just in case.”

Remus’ eyes widened in surprise. It seemed that he had forgotten about the full moon. He quickly stole the bottle from the depths of the fabric rucksack and threw his head back, grimacing as the putrid substance slithered down his throat. He stowed the glass away again and crouched, staring deep into Draco’s eyes. “Do you trust me?” 

Draco pursed his lips, regarding the question carefully, before nodding the most insignificant amount. “Of course.”

Remus straightened, turning on his heel to face Black again. When he spoke, his voice was tense and deliberate. “Where is he, Sirius?”

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, looking around to see that none of the others seemed to know what the teacher meant either. Black’s face was expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his hand and pointed straight at Weasley. The red-head looked bewildered, but the two adults hadn’t finished speaking.

“But then…” Remus muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, “… why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” — Remus’ eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, “— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?” 

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Remus’ face, Black nodded. 

“Professor,” Potter interrupted loudly, “what’s going on —?” 

Draco stiffened slightly, watching the man he had come to think of as a father, lower his wand, walk to Black’s side and pull him to his feet. When Remus pulled the other man into an embrace, Draco was sure he was the only one that saw his lips brush below Black’s ear. He eyed the two of them, trying to come to the same conclusion Remus had, but he couldn’t figure out what had made his teacher change sides.

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Granger screamed. 

Remus let go of Black and turned to her. 

She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Remus, wild-eyed. “You — you —” 

“Hermione —” 

“– you and him!” 

Draco snorted, drawing everyone’s eyes towards him. The Muggleborn didn’t know the half of it. 

“Hermione, calm down —” 

“I didn’t tell anyone!” Granger shrieked. “I’ve been covering up for you —” 

Draco felt a cold trickle of fear settle in his stomach. She knew. She knew. He had guessed, but he hadn’t been sure. She knew, and she was done keeping quiet.

“Be very careful, Granger,” he growled.

“Hermione, listen to me, please” Remus shouted. “I can explain —” 

“I trusted you,” Potter shouted at Remus, his voice wavering, out of control, “and all the time you’ve been his friend!” 

“You’re wrong,” said Remus, in a surprisingly calm voice. “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain…” 

“NO!” Granger screamed. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he’s a werewolf! Him and Malfoy! That’s why they’ve been missing classes and sneaking around the place together! ”

Draco stiffened. 

_ This was his worst nightmare. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t. He’d be chucked out of Hogwarts. His father would kill him.  _

He curled up slightly, bringing his knees to his chest. A ringing silence had descended over the room. All eyes were upon Remus, who had carefully put on a calm mask, though it did not hide the fact that he was deadly pale and had to curl his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” he said coolly. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle, and I certainly don’t want Harry dead.” An odd shiver passed over his face. “But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.” 

“And Malfoy?” Granger demanded, staring at the trembling blonde who met her eye and gave the tiniest of nods.

He couldn’t speak. His voice caught in his throat, and he felt that if he opened his mouth, he would start sobbing. He couldn’t cry. Malfoys didn’t cry.

Weasley gave a panicked whimper and attempted to move away from Draco, not at all living up to his Gryffindor bravery. “Get away from me, werewolf!” he gasped.

Draco flinched, a solitary tear trickling down his cheek. He remained silent, forcing himself to stand, tottering a few small steps before collapsing onto the floor, trembling. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked back, only to realise it was Remus, crouching next to him and leaned against him.

Remus gently carded his fingers through Draco’s platinum blonde hair. “It’s all right, cub. I’ve got you.”

Black growled in a dog-like manner, rounding on Weasley. “Apologise. Or I’ll break your other leg!”

“Sirius,” Remus narrowed his eyes. “Calm down. You will hardly make things better for yourself by threatening a thirteen-year-old.”

The fugitive backed off, and Remus took Draco’s hands in his, massaging them gently, helping to release some of the pain that was building up in them. After what seemed like hours, his attention returned to Granger, a pained smile on his lips. “How long have you known?”

“Ages,” she whispered. “Since I did Professor Snape’s essay…”

Remus grimaced, and Draco felt unbearably cold, knowing that the class his Godfather had taught had led to Granger’s discovery of his condition. Remus squeezed his hands three times, calming him.

“I do not believe that was his intention,” Remus sighed, though Draco could tell he was speaking to him more than the others. “Did you check the lunar chart and realise that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?” 

“Both,” Granger said quietly.

Of course she had. Granger always liked to stick her nose in where it didn’t belong.

Remus forced a laugh. Draco thought he was being too kind to the Gryffindor.

“You’re the cleverest witch of your age I’ve ever met, Hermione.” 

“I’m not,” Granger whispered. “If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!” 

“But they already know,” Remus murmured. “At least, the staff do. Most of them have known me since I was eleven.”

“Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf,” Ron gasped. “And I suppose he knew about Malfoy too? Is he mad?” 

“Some of the staff thought so,” Remus smiled. “But is it really madness, to allow a child to be educated?”

“Can someone be called a child if they aren’t human?” Ron shot back.

Remus stiffened, and Draco pressed himself closer to the man in the hopes of receiving some comfort. The older werewolf sighed, squeezing his hand firmly, before pushing himself to his feet.

“I am not going to debate this with you now,” he groaned bitterly, moving back to Black’s side. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

“What is there to discuss!?” Potter yelled. “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THIS TIME!” 

He was pointing at Black who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.

“I have not been helping Sirius,” said Remus, massaging his temples. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —” 

He separated Draco’s and his classmates’ wands and threw each back to its owner. Draco scoffed as he caught his. His magic didn’t work as well this close to the full moon.

“There,” said Remus, sticking his own wand back into his belt. “You’re armed, we’re not. Now, will you listen?” 

Draco eyed the trio, who all looked slightly sceptical, especially Potter.

“If you haven’t been helping him,” the Boy-Who-Lived said, with a furious glance at Black, “how did you know he was here?” 

“The map,” Remus smirked. “The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it —” 

So that was what he was doing. So much for his ‘not using the map to spy on people’ speech.

“You know how to work it?” Potter said suspiciously.

“Of course I know how to work it,” the lycanthrope waved his hand impatiently. “I helped write it. I’m Moony — that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.” 

“You wrote —?” 

“The important thing is, I was observing it carefully this evening because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I?” 

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet. Draco was grateful for the silence that followed. It allowed him to close his eyes and cradle his aching head in his arms. Even when Remus was talking, he did so as softly as possible, nothing at all like his loud Gryffindor peers. 

“You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harry—” 

“How d’you know about the cloak?” 

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it, the number of times  _ I _ disappeared under it…” he said, waving an impatient hand again. “The point is, even if you’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder’s Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else.” 

Draco’s eyebrows shot up, and he sniffed hesitantly at the air in an attempt to identify the fourth person, but he could only sense the six of them, Crookshanks and Weasley’s disgusting rat.

“What?” said Potter. “No, we weren’t!”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Remus continued, still pacing, and ignoring Potter’s interruption. “I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?” 

“No one was with us!” said Potter. 

“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —” 

“One of us!” Weasley snarled. 

“No, Ron,” Remus breathed, speaking far more calmly than the situation required. “Two of you.” 

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Weasley.

“Merlin’s beard,” Draco breathed, eyeing the rodent currently squealing in the redhead’s grip. “But… It can’t…” He spun around to face Remus, ignoring the shard of pain that assaulted his ribs. “He’s not… Remus, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking they sent the wrong man to Azkaban for twelve years. That’s no small accusation to make. You have to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” Potter snarled, casting his gaze between them. “What is going on? And why is Malfoy clued in and not us?”

Remus ignored him again, his gaze fixed on Weasley. “Do you think I could have a look at the rat?” he said evenly. 

“What?” said Weasley. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?” 

“Everything,” said Remus. “Could I see him, please?” 

Weasley hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Weasley had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and made a soft hissing noise. Remus moved closer to Weasley. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers. 

“What?” Weasley said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. “What’s my rat got to do with anything?” 

There was a long silence, and when it became clear to Draco that no one was going to answer, he raised his head. “That’s not a rat,” he croaked softly.

“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —” 

“No, he’s not,” said Remus quietly. “He’s a wizard.” 

“An Animagus,” said Black, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

It seemed to take a moment for the statement to sink into the Gryffindors. They gaped, dumbfounded before Weasley voiced what they had clearly all been thinking.

“You’re both mental.” 

“Ridiculous!” said Granger faintly. 

“Peter Pettigrew’s dead!” said Potter. “He killed him twelve years ago!” 

He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively. 

“I meant to,” he growled, his yellow teeth bared, “but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!” 

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black’s weight fell on his broken leg. The cat scampered to Draco’s side, and he winced as the orange ball of fur climbed onto his lap, purring as he scritched him behind the ears.

“Sirius, NO!” Remus yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, “WAIT! You can’t do it just like that — they need to understand — we’ve got to explain —” 

“We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, trying to throw Remus off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Weasley’s face and neck as he tried to escape. 

“They’ve — got — a — right — to — know — everything!” Remus panted, still trying to restrain Black. “Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!”

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Weasley’s bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands. 

“All right, then,” Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…” 

“Shut it, Black,” Draco growled. “If you kill Pettigrew, you spend the rest of your days in Azkaban. You need proof.”

“You’re nutters, the lot of you,” said Weasley shakily, looking around at his friends for support. 

“You’re going to hear me out, Ron,” Remus said quietly.

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me, Half-Breed!” Weasley yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard. 

Draco let out a slight whimper at the derogatory slur, but Remus didn’t even flinch. He quickly put out an arm to stop Black from jumping on Weasley again. “Leave it, Siri. It’s not worth it.”

He dragged the other man across the room and slid down onto the floor next to Draco, draping an arm around him. Draco leaned his weight against his side, completely neglecting his pride in favour of the comfort his mentor offered him. 

“Lupus would prefer if the explanation is completed quietly,” he mumbled against Remus’ side.

“Lupus?” Black choked back a laugh and Draco glared at him.

“Yeah. Latin for wolf, I know. Remus still hasn’t let me live it down, but Moony isn’t all that subtle either.”

Harry turned to Remus, ignoring the squabbling. “There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” he said. “A whole street full of them…” 

“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” Black hissed savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Weasley’s hands. 

“Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,” said Remus, nodding. “I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder’s map never lies. Peter’s alive. Ron’s holding him, Harry.” 

Potter and Weasley shared a look, but Draco wasn’t in the mood to try and translate its meaning. The pain from the upcoming full moon was driving itself into his skull. He moaned slightly, causing the Golden Trio to whip around to stare at him.

“Malfoy,” Granger said hesitantly. “Are you…”

“I’m fine,” he gasped. “Lupus is just being a bit…” He grimaced and trailed off upon seeing the startled looks he was receiving from the teens as they heard him discuss his wolf by name.

Then Granger spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to pretend that their interaction hadn’t occurred. “But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew. It just can’t be true. You know it can’t…” 

“Why can’t it be true?” Remus said calmly, as though they were in class, and Granger had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows. 

“Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century. Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list.” 

Draco had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Granger put into her homework when Remus started to laugh. 

“Right again, Hermione!” he said. “But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.” 

“If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus,” said Black, who was still watching Scabbers’s every desperate move. “I’ve waited twelve years. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 

“All right… but you’ll need to help me, Sirius,” said Remus, “I only know how it began…” 

He broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of them stared at it. Then Remus withdrew his arm from around Draco, strode toward it and looked out into the landing. 

“No one there…” 

“This place is haunted!” said Weasley. 

“It’s not,” said Remus, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. “The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. And in recent years by Draco.” 

He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, “That’s where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn’t been bitten… and if I hadn’t been so foolhardy…” 

He looked sober and tired. Weasley started to interrupt, but Granger hushed him. She was watching Remus very intently. 

“I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Severus has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. I’m able to curl up here, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. 

“Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren’t likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn’t come to school…” 

Remus sighed and looked directly at Potter. 

“I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house” — Remus looked miserably around the room, — “the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous.” 

Draco didn’t want to interrupt his mentor. He rarely talked about his transformations when he was a child; thinking about them caused him great pain. The only sound apart from Remus’ voice was Scabbers’s frightened squeaking. 

“My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is excruciating to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour. Even during the years when the house stood silent, no one dared approach it.

“But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry — James Potter. Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her. I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth… 

“And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.” 

“My dad too?” said Potter, astounded. 

“Yes, indeed,” said Remus. “It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.” 

“But how did that help you?” said Granger, sounding puzzled. 

“They couldn’t keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,” said Remus. “A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James’s Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow’s attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.” 

“Hurry up, Remus,” snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face. 

“Shut it, Black,” Draco snapped for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

“I’m getting there, Sirius, I’m getting there… Well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals; they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did. And that’s how we came to write the Marauder’s Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs.” 

“What sort of animal —?” Potter began, but Granger cut him off. 

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?” 

“A thought that still haunts me,” said Remus heavily. Draco felt a significant amount of affection for the man at that moment. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness. 

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed…” 

Remus’ face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. 

“All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me. And Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it. So, in a way, Severus was right about me all along.” 

“Snape?” said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Remus. “What’s Snape got to do with it?” 

“He’s here, Sirius,” said Remus wearily. “He’s teaching here as well, and he worked very hard to get over his childhood grudge for Draco’s sake. He’s his godfather, and you can hardly expect Lucius Malfoy to support his son after he was bitten.” 

Draco shuddered at the mention of his father, and he and Remus shared a look. After what felt like a long time, Remus’ gaze returned to the Golden Trio. “Professor Snape was at school with us. It took a lot for him to trust me this year. I wouldn’t say he hates me, but there has never been any love lost between us. He warned me that if he finds that I was helping Sirius, he will make it his business to make sure I never get another job again. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —” 

Black made a small noise in the back of his throat, looking guilty, but said nothing.

“Severus was very interested in where I went every month,” Remus told the Gryffindor teens. 

“We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch field. Anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it — if he’d got as far as this house, he’d have met a fully grown werewolf — but your father, who’d heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life. Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was…” 

“So that’s why Snape doesn’t like you,” said Potter slowly, “because he thought you were in on the joke?” 

“That’s right,” sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Remus. 

Draco’s godfather was pulling off an Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Remus. 

Granger screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Draco tilted his head and peered up at Severus, unable to be surprised by his sudden entry into the situation. 

“I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,” Severus sneered, throwing the cloak aside dramatically, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Remus’ chest. “Very useful, Potter, I thank you…” 

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. He didn’t even realise that he had forgotten to hate Potter.

“Sev,” Draco whispered. The man’s dark eyes fell upon him, boring into his skull, as though to read his mind. Draco let him, allowing the legilimens to poke around in his head for a moment before pushing him out. “Sev,” he repeated. “The rat.”

“You believe all that rubbish they’re spewing?” Sev narrowed his eyes. “I was under the impression that I had taught you better than that. Stop thinking like a Gryffindor and open your eyes, Draco.”

He spoke the last sentence harshly, and Draco couldn’t help but flinch back, eyes wide with fright. Sev’s eyes softened and he let out a weary sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he crouched down next to him, completely forgetting to keep his wand trained on Remus. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“I know,” Draco murmured. “I’m not the only one acting like a Gryffindor, though. You won’t listen. You said you’d always listen to me. Please, Sev. Let them finish.”

“Severus —” Remus began, but Snape twisted around and snarled at him.

“One word, Lupin, and I will hand you straight to the dementors!” 

Draco could tell he was thinking hard, his lips pressed tight together, his eyes closed, his fingers curled tight around his wand. He stayed quiet, knowing that when Sev was thinking hard like he was now, he needed silence. The Golden Trio were not blessed with such knowledge.

Granger, took an uncertain step toward Sev and said, in a very breathless voice, “Professor Snape — it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’ve got to say, w-would it?”

“Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school,” The Potions Master spat. “You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds in the company of a convicted murderer. For once in your life, hold your tongue.” 

“Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year,” Potter whined. “I’ve been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn’t he just finish me off then?” 

“One more word, Potter, and I will drag all of you up to the dementors and leave you there.”

It was an empty threat and Draco knew it. Sev just wanted to have a moment to think, but Potter obviously didn’t see it that way.

“YOU’RE PATHETIC!” Harry yelled. “JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN —” 

“SILENCE!” Sev shrieked, looking slightly mad. Then, he bent his head and took a deep shuddering breath. “Finish your story, Lupin,” he drawled. “But if you lie to me, I will know it… And I will have no reservations about handing you over to the dementors.”

“Thank you, Severus,” Remus whispered, bowing his head slightly. “Now, where was I?”

“Perhaps some proof would help smooth things over?” Draco mumbled. His head had dropped onto his godfather’s chest and Sev lifted a hand to his head, gently combing his fingers through his white-blonde hair.

Remus nodded and tilted his head in Weasley’s direction. “Ron, give me Peter, please. Now.”

Weasley clutched the animagus closer to his chest. 

“Come off it,” he said weakly. “Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…” 

He looked up at Potter and Granger for support, “Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?” 

“Yes, Black,” Sev sneered, eyeing Black with a harsh glare. “How did you come to the conclusion that Pettigrew was here?” 

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others. It was the photograph that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Weasley’s shoulder, was the rat. 

“How did you get this?” Remus asked Black, thunderstruck. 

“Fudge,” Black rasped. “When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy’s shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…” 

“My God,” said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. “His front paw…” 

“What about it?” said Weasley aggressively. 

“He’s got a toe missing,” said Black. 

“Of course,” Remus breathed. “So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?” 

“Just before he transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…” 

“Didn’t you ever hear, Ron?” Remus explained. “The biggest part of Peter they found was his finger.” 

“Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He’s been in my family for ages, right —” 

“Twelve years, in fact,” said Remus. “Didn’t you ever wonder why he was living so long?” 

“We — we’ve been taking good care of him!” Weasley argued though he wasn’t looking very confident in his statement. 

“Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?” Remus smiled. “I’d guess he’s been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…” 

“He’s been scared of that mad cat!” said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring in Draco’s lap.

Draco groaned, pressed his face into Sev’s chest, and the Potion Master pursed his lips, not allowing himself to become any less intimidating than his usual self, even with a shuddering werewolf in his lap. 

“Raise your voice one more time, Weasley, and I will use your rat as potion ingredients. Lupin, please get to the point. We don't have much more time.”

Remus glanced at Black and opened his mouth to speak, but then the convict whispered in a voice full of pain and self-hatred. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… It was the perfect plan. It was common knowledge that I was James’ brother in all but blood. I lived with him after I ran away from home. No one would suspect that he would give the secret to someone like Peter. The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… I realized what Peter must’ve done… what I’d done…” His voice broke. He turned away. 

“Enough of this,” Severus hissed, disentangling himself from Draco and standing, facing Weasley. There was a pained note in his voice that Draco had never heard before. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Weasley, give me that rat.” 

“What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?” Weasley whimpered. 

“Force him to show himself,” Remus said gently. “If he is a rat, it won’t hurt him.” 

Severus didn’t give Weasley the chance to disobey. He wrested the rat from the redhead’s grip and spun back around in the direction of the other adults as Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. Remus and Black were both frozen, wide-eyed, afraid to move. Sev twirled his wand in a short arc before jabbing the rat with the tip. 

“ Mutatio hominum,” he hissed.

A flash of blue-white light erupted from his wand. For a moment, the rat was suspended in midair, his small grey form twisting madly. Weasley yelled in fright and the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on Draco’s lap, the hair on his back standing up, and Draco was forced to run his fingers through his ginger fur to calm him down. 

Pettigrew was a very short man, hardly taller than Draco himself. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers’s fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Draco saw his eyes dart to the door and back again. 

“Well, hello, Peter,” said Remus pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. “Long time, no see.” 

“S—Sirius… R—Remus…” Even Pettigrew’s voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. “My friends… my old friends…” 

Black’s wand arm rose, but Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual. Draco had spent enough time around the other lycanthrope to know that this was the voice he used when he was furious.

“We’ve been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —” 

“Remus,” gasped Pettigrew, and Draco could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, “you don’t believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…”

“Well,” Sev drawled, the shocked expression that had adorned his face now melting into one of resignation. “Black hasn’t spent twelve years as a rat, so I’m more inclined to believe him.”

“Severus!” Pettigrew squeaked. “You would really believe him, after everything he did to you? You could have died. You could have been turned. He wouldn’t have cared if you had to live your life out as a filthy Half-Breed!”

Severus threw down his wand and lunged at the man, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall. “Don’t you dare use that word,” he hissed. “Not in front of me and most certainly not in front of my godson.”

“I hate to agree with Snape,” Sirius growled, “but here, here.”

Remus’ lips twitched into a strained sort of smile before he managed to school his face into a stern expression. 

“Perhaps,” he murmured, “it would be better for us adults to converse in another room. All your squeaking, Peter, seems to be doing Draco’s head in.”

“I agree,” Sev murmured.

Draco groaned softly in response. Pettigrew’s strident voice had been causing his head to thump and his pain to intensify. There wasn’t long left until moonrise, though the clouds that blanketed the night sky may buy them more time.

With a slight twist of Severus’ wand, Pettigrew was bound tightly with enchanted rope and was floating a few inches in midair.

Remus tilted his head to the side, eyeing the golden trio. “Stay here and try not to fight. We’ll be back soon.” Potter opened his mouth to argue and Remus’ eyes flashed. “No, Harry. We will deal with this. You will stay here and stay out of trouble.”

“We’re hardly safe with a werewolf in the room!” Weasley snarled as they exited.

“I’ve taken Wolfsbane, you idiot,” Draco hissed. “If anyone’s in danger, it’s me. I don’t want to suffer a transformation with you lot gawking at me.”

“And you won’t have to,” Remus assured him. “Severus will take Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius up to the castle before the moon has risen.”

Weasley waited for them to leave before letting out a soft squeak. “The full moon is tonight?!”

Draco laughed softly. “Why else would I be curled up on the ground in huge amounts of pain?” 

“So, the transformation is painful?” Granger whispered.

“My body is tearing itself apart and knitting itself back together over the course of a few minutes. Yes, Granger, of course it’s painful.”

“But Professor Lupin…”

“Is much older than me, has experienced many more transformations and has a much higher tolerance to pain.” He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head as he looked up at the bushy-haired girl.

“Oh,” she muttered bashfully. “Sorry.”

Draco hissed slightly and his body slowly caved over, allowing him to settle onto his side, using his arm as a pillow. “Doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “I've got worse things to be worrying about right now. Say it again in the morning and I might care.”

“Watch it, Half-Breed!” Weasley snarled.

“If you think I haven’t had that word spat in my face hundreds of times before, you’re wrong. It’s far too overused at this point. Find something original, Weasley, be creative for once.” He narrowed his eyes at the red-head.

“Draco,” Granger squeaked. “Can I ask you a question?” He nodded and she continued in a rushed voice. “Does your father know? About you being a werewolf?”

“The preferred term is lycanthrope,” he corrected, “and yes. He knows. Hasn’t let me forget it. He was the first person to tell me that I am less. Less than human, less than an animal, just a filthy Half-Breed. He loves to remind me of it.”

He moaned and arched his back as another shockwave of pain rippled through his aching form. His eyes rolled towards one of the boarded windows, trying to spot the moon behind the swirling grey clouds.

“Malfoy!” Potter, it seemed, had been shouting his name. “Malfoy! Are you…”

“Fine,” he groaned. “Not much time left.”   
  


Granger clasped her hands together nervously, pacing across the room and back again. 

“We should find Professor Snape or Professor Lupin. They’d know what to do.”

“Stop worrying, Granger,” he slurred. “This is normal. This is…”

He screamed. The sound tore at his throat and his limbs thrashed against the wooden floor, his skin on fire and his body tearing itself apart. After a moment, Draco managed to retake control and was left in a trembling, whimpering heap. He felt a hand gripping his shoulder and he jerked away, waving a trembling hand in an attempt to ward Granger off.

“Stay away,” he gasped. “Please, stay away. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Draco…”

The door flew open and Severus and Black stumbled inside, supporting Remus between them. Severus had a gash on his forehead and Black was sporting a swollen lip. Sev left Black to support the other man entirely and moved to Draco’s side, causing Potter and Granger to take a few quick steps backwards until they were bumped into the wall. Sev rolled his eyes.

“Granger, Potter, get Weasley off the bed.”

“What happened?” Granger breathed.

“Peter escaped,” Remus sighed. “I collapsed and he used the distraction to transform and get away.”

“Granger!” Sev snarled and she scampered to the bed and helped Potter to heave Weasley into a standing position. 

Draco groaned as he was scooped up into the Potion Master’s arms and held close to his chest. Tears stained the older man’s shirt, but Sev didn’t seem to mind. He gently lowered his godson onto the bed, allowing his shaking body to sink into the mattress. Draco’s hand flew out of his own accord, grasping Severus’ wrist. 

“Draco,” his godfather said softly. “You have to let me go.” 

Draco pulled back, fearing that he had hurt Severus, but it seemed that his worry was for nothing. Severus turned to the Golden Trio. 

“Start making your way to the exit, but do not leave until I have joined you.”

The Gryffindors hurried to obey, though they were hindered slightly by Weasley’s injured leg. Sev twisted his wand, causing the redhead to cry out as his leg was tightly wrapped with enchanted bandages. They continued out of the room, though with much more venomous muttering on Weasley’s part. Another flick of Sev’s wand swung the door closed in their wake. 

Black helped Remus turn around and slide off his sweat-soaked clothes, wrapping a cloak around him to hide his broken body from view. Black held him then, arms around his waist, hands gripping him tightly. Remus pressed his face into the other man’s shoulder, letting out a small sigh, bare arms wrapped around his neck. Meanwhile, Severus gently undid the buttons on Draco’s shirt and slid off his shoes and socks, assisting him in slipping off his clothes. Draco shivered as cool air grazed his skin and relief washed over him as Sev wrapped him tightly in a dusty blanket, nimble fingers gently running through his pale hair before the dark-haired man retreated towards the door.

“Take care of my godson, Lupin. Do not betray my trust.” 

“Of course, Severus,” Remus whispered, causing the mattress to dip as he sank down at Draco’s side.

“Remus,” Black bit his lip. “I could stay.”

“No, Padfoot. Go clear your name. I’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“Siri, I can survive one more full moon without you if it means I can have you for the next one.”

Sev grabbed Black’s arm.

“Come on,” he hissed. “Potter and his friends will need our help to get out of the passage.”

Black sighed, giving one more longing glance in their direction before twisting around and striding purposefully from the room, Severus close behind him.

Remus groaned and collapsed onto his side on the bed. Draco scooted over to press himself closer to the old lycanthrope, head pressed against the folds of his cloak, shivering and crying with the pain. Remus wrapped his arms around the blonde boy, keeping a firm grip on him, attempting to console him without words. A cloud slid out of place and the full moon’s glowing light filtered through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. Remus’ arms tightened around him, Draco’s skin sizzled, bones cracked. He screamed. 

🗲🗲🗲 

The screeching and animalistic yelps carried on the still night, reaching the Whomping Willow and the people beneath it. Sirius Black flinched at every new scream, trying not to meet the gaze of the three wide-eyed teens who were being shepherded across the grounds by a furious Snape. With every new pained shriek, the Potions Master grew crueller and angrier, his voice becoming colder and colder. Suddenly, the grounds became unnaturally silent. 

“Professor,” Granger whispered. “What…”

A growling howl disrupted the still air and the teens jumped. Sirius let out a low sigh and gradually relaxed his stiffened posture. He could recognise Moony’s howl anywhere. It was over. His lover was safe.

🗲🗲🗲 

Lupus raised his white blonde head and nuzzled the other wolf gently. Moony huffed and licked his cub’s muzzle, tenderly pawing at his face. The blonde wolf barked excitedly and jumped at Moony, playfully nipping at him and wrestling until they fell from the bed with a loud thump. Lupus whined, hiding his face behind his snowy paws. The older wolf padded over to him and curled up next to him, licking his face. Lupus sighed and rested his head on his pack member’s shoulder. He trusted Moony. Moony was his pack, his father, his family. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance and Lupus perked his ears. Both wolves stood, eyes darting around, noses twitching, before pushing their way out of the open door and out in the direction of the passage under the Whomping Willow. The Forbidden Forest awaited. It was time to run.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you wish for me to write the rest of this story, please comment below. 
> 
> Do you wish for me to continue on from here, or go back to the beginning of the year and show how Remus and Draco's relationship has evolved? Is there anything specific you wish to see in this story if it is continued?
> 
> If you are uncomfortable commenting, please leave kudos instead. Be safe and enjoy the rest of your day!


End file.
